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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24150691">Amnesia in the Addams Family</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloitshaley/pseuds/helloitshaley'>helloitshaley</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Addams Family - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:23:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,449</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24150691</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloitshaley/pseuds/helloitshaley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off the 60's episode where Gomez gets amnesia, but with a bit of a darker and more angst filled spin. Morticia tries to cope with her husband becoming a completely different person, but the sudden change is enough to rock even the most sound of marriages. Can she figure out a way to get his memory back, or will the family be forever changed by Gomez's odd new behavior?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The day began as normally as any other in the Addams house. The children went off to school, Mama was off in the swamp doing who knows what, Fester was up in the attic testing out a detection device for mold and hoping to find some, and Gomez and Morticia were enjoying a quiet breakfast in the conservatory.</p>
<p>	“My darling, I have something to show you,” Gomez said, pulling out an envelope from the inside pocket of his suit. He smiled lovingly at his wife, picking up her free hand to kiss quickly.</p>
<p>	“I do hope it's something gloomy,” Morticia said with intrigue as she put down her fork.</p>
<p>	Gomez grinned eagerly as he pulled out the packet of papers. “I got a new life insurance policy on myself. One million dollars, to be exact!”</p>
<p>	Morticia’s eyes went wide. “That is a nice, round figure. But darling, I don’t want to think of something so horrible. Losing you, I couldn’t bear it.”</p>
<p>	Gomez reached over and took her hand and once again placed a soft kiss to the back of it. “Never fear, querida mia, I’m afraid I shall be gracing you with my presence for an obnoxiously long time.”</p>
<p>	“You better,” Morticia warned, giving his hand a squeeze. “We’re supposed to die together.”</p>
<p>	“Of course, of course. And we will be buried side by side. I was just being pragmatic, that's all.” He stood from the table and grinned down at his wife. “I’m just going to go file this away and we will speak of it no more.”</p>
<p>	“Excellent idea, darling, do hurry back.”</p>
<p>	Gomez went to take a step forward, unaware of one of Cleopatra’s long vines stretching across the floor. The vine snagged around his ankle, causing him to pitch forward and smack his head against a stone table. Gomez collapsed to the floor in a heap, causing Morticia to leap out of her seat with a gasp.</p>
<p>	“Gomez? Gomez, darling, are you alright?” She rushed over to his side, kneeling beside him on the hard stone floor. There was an angry red mark stretching across his forehead, but he thankfully wasn’t bleeding. Morticia took his face in her hands, looking at him with panic. “Gomez, wake up!”</p>
<p>	He let out a long groan, his eyelids fluttering. Morticia felt like she could breathe again as he showed signs of life. The irony of the situation was not lost on her, and she felt as though Gomez had almost messed with fate. She sent a disdainful look at the life insurance policy, which had scattered all around him in the fall.</p>
<p>	“Gomez,” she said again, prompting him to crack an eye open. “Oh, thank heavens you’re alright.”</p>
<p>	His eyebrows pulled together in confusion, making him wince in pain. “What… what happened?”</p>
<p>	“You tripped and hit your head, Gomez,” she gently said as she smoothed his hair back.</p>
<p>	“Who's Gomez?” he asked.</p>
<p>	Morticia felt her stomach drop, and it wasn’t as pleasant a feeling as it normally is. “You are...” she said slowly, not yet understanding the gravity of the situation.</p>
<p>	“Oh,” he said, sitting up slightly. He turned his eyes on Morticia, a slight smirk forming on his lips. “And you are?”</p>
<p>	“Oh no,” she gasped. “You really don’t know who I am?”</p>
<p>	He slowly shook his head.</p>
<p>	“I’m your wife, Morticia,” she explained. She brushed her fingers over the quickly darkening bruise on his forehead. “Oh dear, you must have amnesia. My poor darling.” She went to embrace him, but to her shock, Gomez pulled back.</p>
<p>	“I’m married to you?” he asked, moving back across the stone floor. He looked around and picked up a random piece of paper. “And what's all this?”</p>
<p>	“Your life insurance policy. You were showing it to me before you fell,” Morticia calmly explained.</p>
<p>	His eyes bulged as he saw the figure on the page. “One million dollars? At least I’m rich.” He looked back at Morticia. “And my wife is very beautiful. But it looks like we were on the way to someone’s funeral.”</p>
<p>	Morticia shook her head and cautiously moved closer to him. “Why would you say that?”</p>
<p>	He gestured to Morticia. “Look at how you’re dressed. All in black.”</p>
<p>	Moticia opened and closed her mouth, trying to think of the right thing to say to such an absurd statement. “Darling, I always wear black. You said it was so becoming.”</p>
<p>	He raised an eyebrow, which made him wince again. “I said that?”</p>
<p>	“Oh, Gomez, your poor head.” She stood and walked over to the noose to ring for Lurch. “I’ll have Lurch bring you some ice, maybe that will help a bit.”</p>
<p>	As the bell clanged, Gomez flattened himself against the ground in a panic. “The house is falling!”</p>
<p>	Before Morticia would even respond to that, Lurch appeared. “You rang?”</p>
<p>	“What is that?” Gomez cried, struggling to his feet.</p>
<p>	“Our butler, Lurch,” Morticia tried to quietly explain before turning to Lurch. “Mr. Addams fell and hit his head. Would you please go get him some ice? Clearly he isn’t himself right now.”</p>
<p>	Lurch groaned, shaking his head in Gomez’s direction before walking away. Morticia frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “Maybe a walk around the house will jog your memory.”</p>
<p>	However, the walk only seemed to make Gomez more agitated. Morticia was growing more and more disheartened by the second. He thought the living room was odd, he found the playroom  to be appalling, and he said the smell coming from the kitchen was nauseating.</p>
<p>	“So maybe I was wrong about the walk,” Morticia muttered, mostly to herself as she took a seat in her chair. They had circled back to the living room, and Morticia was hoping he wouldn’t seem so off put by it this time. He nearly cowered in fear upon seeing their stuffed bear the first time.</p>
<p>	“I can see that you’re upset,” Gomez said awkwardly. “And I feel bad about that, but…”</p>
<p>	“Don’t apologize,” Morticia sighed. She grabbed the cigar box off the end table and held it out to him. “Do you want a cigar, darling? It might help relax you”</p>
<p>	Gomez frowned, looking at the box of expensive cigars with disgust. “Smoking is horrible for you, Morticia.”</p>
<p>	“I know… that's why you do it.”</p>
<p>	“Well not anymore!” Gomez declared.</p>
<p>	“But, Gomez, you’ve smoked since you were five!”</p>
<p>	He shook his head as he sunk down into the armchair beside Morticia. “What kind of person let's a five year old smoke?”</p>
<p>	As if on cue, Mama waltzed through the front door, covered in muck from the swamp. She made her way through the living room, giving Gomez a terrible shock. Morticia quickly got to her feet to intercept Mama before Gomez could say something to offend his mother.</p>
<p>	“Morticia, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Mama remarked with an intrigued grin. “Are you going to tell me where?”</p>
<p>	“Gomez hit his head and has amnesia,” Morticia said quickly, cutting to the chase. “He is very much not himself so it's best to tread lightly right now. Very lightly.”</p>
<p>	Mama glanced over Morticia’s shoulder at Gomez, who was nervously glancing around the room as if he was waiting for something to pop out at him. “No offence, Morticia, but I am his mother. If anyone can jog his memory, it's me.” She walked over to him, dripping swamp juice behind her as she went. She held out her arms in a grand fashion, stomping her muddy foot as she did so. “Son, come give your mother a hug!”</p>
<p>	Gomez’s eyes went wide in shock. He climbed over the back of the chair, trying to put space between them. “You are my mother?” he asked in disbelief.</p>
<p>	“Gomez,” Morticia gasped.</p>
<p>	“Hey, you’re no treat yourself with that big mark on your forehead,” Mama said indignantly. She turned back to Morticia and shrugged, clearly having already given up. “It's a lost cause, Morticia.”</p>
<p>	Morticia apprehensively watched her huff away, unsure where to go from there. Gomez was still cowering behind the chair, but was now looking over at Morticia. He shook his head, looking like a scared baby bat. “This is a nut house!”</p>
<p>	“Gomez, darling, please, this is your home. This is your family!” She extended her hands toward him, which he normally would have leapt into within the second. “I understand that this is confusing, and it might be scary right now, but I’m going to find some way to bring your memories back.”</p>
<p>	“Do I… do I even want them back?” he asked, his eyes going toward the two headed turtle sitting in the room.</p>
<p>	Morticia tried to not be very hurt by that. He wasn’t himself, she had to remind herself. Her Gomez would never behave like this. “Darling, I-” a thought struck Morticia mid sentence. “Mon amour, je t’aime toujours.”</p>
<p>	He just stared blankly at her. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak French.”</p>
<p>	Morticia gasped, raising her hand to her mouth. This was much worse than she thought. No reaction to French? Gomez had to be positively ill. She walked over to the love seat and sunk down, keeping her face neutral in spite of the panic rising through her. </p>
<p>Gomez cautiously walked toward her, seeming like he wanted to say something to comfort her. He awkwardly patted her shoulder before saying, “there, there.”</p>
<p>	“Perhaps when our children come home, that will help,” Morticia said, trying not to get too desolate about it all.</p>
<p>“Children?” he asked. “What children?”</p>
<p>	“Our children.”</p>
<p>	A definite red tinge sprang into Gomez’s cheeks. “Madam, are you suggesting we’ve been more than friends?”</p>
<p>	Morticia looked up at him in shock. “Gomez, we’re married! Not only that, but you have the libido of a teenager!”</p>
<p>	Gomez still looked flustered. “Me? Are you sure?”</p>
<p>	Morticia nodded resolutely. “Quite, quite sure. Quite.”</p>
<p>	He scratched his head and took a seat beside her on the small couch. “No offense to you, I mean clearly you’re beautiful, but the way you’re dressed is just… not working for me. I mean, you look depressed.”</p>
<p>	Morticia reached up to tug at the ends of her hair as she figured out what she could possibly say to that that wouldn’t reveal just how upset she was. And what was so wrong with looking depressed? Especially when that's what she felt to be on the verge of. “Would you like to come look in my closet?” she suggested, even though it seemed to be such a weird thing to do.</p>
<p>	Gomez shrugged. “It's worth a shot.”</p>
<p>	However, Gomez was less than thrilled with the all black selection hanging in the large closet. Morticia took a seat on the black cushioned stool in the center of the closet, watching as he flipped through her countless expensive gowns. Finally he came to a stop and pulled out a deep crimson, velvet dress that Morticia had worn maybe once to a holiday party one of Gomez’s business partners threw. What a dull night that was, she seemed to recall. When the group suggested they all go caroling, she and Gomez made a swift exit.</p>
<p>	“Well, this is a start,” he said, handing the dress over to her. “I could take you shopping so we could get you some more color. And maybe a pair of pants or two wouldn’t hurt either.”</p>
<p>	“I hardly remember the last time I wore pants…” Morticia said softly to herself. She looked at the red dress and resigned to her fate. “I suppose you want me to wear this now.”</p>
<p>	“I think it will help me maybe,” Gomez said with a shrug.</p>
<p>	Thinking quickly, Morticia walked over to him and spun around, pulling her long hair over one shoulder. “I’ll need your help with the zipper then,” she said in a sultry tone, raising an eyebrow at him over her shoulder.</p>
<p>	“Oh, um, okay then,” Gomez said with an awkward cough. “I’ll just avert my eyes.”</p>
<p>	Morticia almost fell over. “Avert your eyes? Don’t be silly.”</p>
<p>	In a flash, Gomez unzipped the back of her dress and was backing away toward the door. “I’ll just let you get changed in private, then.”</p>
<p>	“Private?” she repeated, clutching at her chest before the dress could fall to the ground. “Gomez, you never pass up a chance to watch me undress!”</p>
<p>	“It just doesn’t seem right,” he said, his back against the closet door. “It feels like I’m intruding.”</p>
<p>	“Darling, you could never be intruding,” Morticia said in a somewhat desperate tone. She let her hands drop away from her chest, which was the only thing keeping her dress up. Instantly, Gomez slapped his hand over his eyes as he felt for the door knob. “Gomez-”</p>
<p>	“Sorry for bothering you,” he said before bolting out of the closet.</p>
<p>	Morticia stared at the spot he once occupied, her mouth open in shock. Somewhat angrily, she shoved her dress the rest of the way off and slid into the red one, only to find that she literally could not zip herself up no matter how hard she tried. After all, she never once had to do it herself, Gomez was always there to zip or unzip, button or unbutton, snap or unsnap, no matter what. Morticia frowned and swallowed her pride before walking out of the closet.</p>
<p>	“As much as it may offend you, Mr. Addams, I cannot zip myself up,” she said flatly, momentarily letting her bitterness get the better of her.</p>
<p>	Gomez stopped pacing and turned toward Morticia. He nodded slowly and walked over, hesitating as he stood behind her. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, he was so close yet so far. She shivered as he gathered her hair, gently pushing it back over her shoulder, which left her bare back exposed to him.</p>
<p>	Morticia’s eyes fluttered shut at the memory of how Gomez would normally press searing kisses to her back, his hands digging into her hips as he pulled her close. He would mutter adoring words between kisses, always telling her how much he loved her, or how beautiful she was. He would always leave her weak and trembling by the time he actually got around to doing what she asked of him.</p>
<p>	Morticia almost jumped at the feeling of his fingers lightly trailing down her back. She didn’t dare to move in case she ruined what could possibly be a moment. Slowly, he pulled her zipper up, being very cautious to not pinch her skin. He pulled her hair back and let it tumble down her back.</p>
<p>	“Anything?” Morticia breathed.</p>
<p>	“I’m sorry, Morticia,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion.</p>
<p>	She turned her head slightly, noticing that he hadn’t moved away. “It isn’t your fault. I know you. You would never choose to lose your memories.”</p>
<p>	Reaching out, Gomez took Morticia’s chin in his fingers, tilting her face up slightly. His eyes were on her lips as he inclined his head toward hers. Morticia’s breath caught in her throat as his lips softly brushed against hers. She and Gomez had kissed thousands of times, maybe more, but this felt like it was happening for the first time. It was so innocent and gentle, almost childlike in the simplicity of it.</p>
<p>	Then it was over. Gomez pulled back, looking at Morticia with remorse. Her heart snapped and suddenly she just needed to be alone. “I need a moment,” she said, making her way toward the door.</p>
<p>	“Of course,” said Gomez, watching as she went.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Morticia wound up outside in the cemetery, furiously googling amnesia remedies as she sat atop a headstone. She wasn’t alone with her thoughts for too long though, since an explosion propelled Uncle Fester from the attic only moments later. He landed with a crash at Morticia’s feet, sending up grass and dirt all around him. Quickly he sat up in a daze, shaking himself off like a dog after a bath. </p>
<p>	“Huh, that was unexpected,” Fester said to himself before he noticed Morticia for the first time. “Hi! What are you doing out here alone?”</p>
<p>	Morticia sighed and set her phone beside her. “Gomez has amnesia.”</p>
<p>	“Oh, fun!” Fester said as he pulled chunks of grass from his jacket.</p>
<p>	Morticia sadly shook her head. “It isn’t fun, Uncle Fester. He doesn’t remember anything. He thinks our house is strange, he doesn’t like how I dress, he doesn’t… oh nevermind. It's bad, Uncle Fester, that's all I can say.”</p>
<p>	Fester frowned. “Oh, I’m sorry, Morticia. How did it happen?”</p>
<p>	“He tripped on one of Cleopatra’s vines and smashed his head into an end table.”</p>
<p>	“Oh, well, I know what to do!” Fester declared happily, jumping to his feet.</p>
<p>	“You do?” Morticia asked hopefully. “Oh, Uncle Fester, please tell me.”</p>
<p>	“Well, if I have learned anything from Loony Toons, it's that we just need to give Gomez another whack on the head!”</p>
<p>	And all of the sudden, Morticia’s hopes were gone yet again. She glared at Fester, shaking her head. “I couldn’t do that to him! And also, I really don’t think that would work. I don’t think Bugs Bunny is a sound medical expert.” </p>
<p>	“We won’t know unless we try…”</p>
<p>	“I was hoping that maybe once the children get home that would help jog something,” Morticia said glumly. “If I can’t bring his memories back, maybe our children can.”</p>
<p>	Fester laughed. “You would think all you would need to do is take your clothes off.”</p>
<p>	“I tried that.”</p>
<p>	Fester cringed. “Please, Morticia, you’re my niece. I don’t need to hear about that.”</p>
<p>	“So I’m your niece today, not your sister in law?” she teased.</p>
<p>	Fester paused for a moment as he considered his ambiguous familial relation. He eventually shrugged before saying, “semantics.”</p>
<p>	Morticia smiled sadly. She patted Fester’s hand and slid off the headstone. “I should go check on him. I sort of just abandoned him in our room.”</p>
<p>	“I am always happy to give him a good whack!” Fester called as she started to walk away. “You just let me know!”</p>
<p>	To Morticia’s surprise, she found Gomez back in the living room, reading over the insurance policy he had scattered all around this morning. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as his eyes furiously scanned back and forth across the pages. He raised his head once he noticed Morticia, looking at her with a strange expression she had never seen directed her way before.</p>
<p>	“Gomez, darling, what's wrong?” she asked.</p>
<p>	He shook the papers slightly as he took a step back from her. “There's a clause in here that says if I die from some kind of accident, you get double the amount of money.”</p>
<p>	Morticia wasn’t sure she liked what he was implying. “And?” she asked calmly with a raised brow.</p>
<p>	“And? It doesn’t strike you as odd, Morticia, that I ‘fell’ and hit my head right after I supposedly showed this to you?” he asked, the accusation clear in his voice.</p>
<p>	Morticia bit her lip and crossed her arms tightly, trying to contain her anger. “Gomez, I find what you’re trying to insinuate highly offensive and downright incorrect. You should know I would never hurt you. Well, unless you asked for it, but that's an entirely different topic. You are my world, Gomez Addams.”</p>
<p>	“I don’t know what to think,” he said, tucking the papers away in his pocket. “I don’t know anything. All I know is that I woke up in this strange house that's full of very strange people and I’m having trouble wrapping my head around the fact that it's all mine. Then I read this and I just think that it's an odd coincidence-”</p>
<p>	“You tripped,” Morticia snapped. “There was no sinister plot behind it. I love you, the thought of being without you kills me. The fact that I can’t make you remember who you are kills me too.” She took a deep breath as her throat tightened, trying desperately to get a hold on her emotions. “Please, do not insinuate that I would ever try to kill you.”</p>
<p>	He looked at Morticia, his mouth slightly agape, unsure of how to respond. She glared back at him, hoping he wouldn’t notice how her eyes were now rimmed with tears. Gomez let his shoulders slump as he ran a hand back across his hair. “Very well,” he eventually sighed. “I apologize, Morticia.”</p>
<p>	She nodded once, not trusting herself to speak. Instead, she looked down at her nails as she regained her composure. “What would you like for lunch?” is what she finally said once she knew her voice wouldn’t be shaky.</p>
<p>	“Oh, um, anything is fine. Whatever you were going to have.”</p>
<p>	“Iguana casserole?”</p>
<p>	Gomez cringed. “Maybe just a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”</p>
<p>	Morticia sighed, trying to hide her disdain for the very notion. “I’ll do my best.”</p>
<p>	Hours later, after a very disappointing lunch and exceedingly awkward afternoon, Wednesday and Pugsley finally returned home from school. Morticia almost burst out of her seat in excitement as she rushed over to greet them at the door. </p>
<p>	“Hello, darlings, how was your day?” she asked, giving them both a kiss on the forehead while subtly blocking them from coming in any further.</p>
<p>	“Abysmal,” was Wednesday’s response. “Why are you blocking us?”</p>
<p>	Morticia huffed. “Why are you so smart?”</p>
<p>	“Why are you avoiding the question?” Pugsley asked, subtly trying to sneak past Morticia.</p>
<p>	She reached out her arm to stop him, shooting him a look that said, ‘nice try.’ “I’m going to be perfectly honest, your father is not himself right now. I’m hoping that maybe the sight of the two of you will help to jog his memory a little bit, but if not, I just ask that you’re very patient with him and take what he says with a grain of cyanide, alright?”</p>
<p>	Wednesday and Pugsley shared a look before Pugsley said, “so fathers flipped?”</p>
<p>	Morticia narrowed her eyes at him before considering it. “Perhaps you’re right. Go say hello to him, please. I’ll have to reintroduce you.”</p>
<p>	Morticia took their hands and they walked back into the living room where Gomez was sitting anxiously in his chair. “Gomez, these are our children, Wednesday and Pugsley.”</p>
<p>	“Hello,” they said in unison.</p>
<p>	“Wednesday and Pugsley?” he asked, looking puzzled. “Those are their real names?”</p>
<p>	Morticia took in a deep breath, giving her children's hands a squeeze. “Yes, Gomez.”</p>
<p>	It looked like he forced a smile as he looked back at the kids. “Well, Wednesday, is it? You look so much like your mother. Right down to how you dress…” </p>
<p>	Morticia frowned. Wednesday pulled her hand away so she could cross her arms while silently glaring at her father. Pugsley took a step toward Gomez and reached into his pocket before pulling out a handful of dirt that was loaded with wriggling worms. Gomez leaned back, looking at the worms with disgust.</p>
<p>	“What is that?” he asked.</p>
<p>	“I found these great worms at recess, I wanted to show you,” Pugsley said happily. “Look at how big that one is!”</p>
<p>	“Please, I just ate,” Gomez said, gently pushing Pugsley’s hand away.</p>
<p>	“Pugsley, Uncle Fester is outside and I’m sure he would love to see your worms,” Morticia said sympathetically. “Go on, my darlings.”</p>
<p>	Silently, Wednesday and Pugsley left, leaving Morticia feeling even more hopeless and desolate than before. “I guess I messed that up,” Gomez sighed, pulling her from her thoughts. “I just wasn’t expecting worms.”</p>
<p>	“You love digging for worms with Pugsley,” Morticia said softly. “And you always tell Wednesday how darling she looks and then she’ll kick you in the shins for saying that to her.”</p>
<p>	He looked slightly horrified. “And I’m just okay with my daughter kicking me in the shins?”</p>
<p>	“Of course, it's one of the ways she tells you she loves you.”</p>
<p>	Gomez shook his head. “And what the hell is an Uncle Fester?”</p>
<p>	“He is either your brother or my uncle. It changes with whatever fits the narrative better,” Morticia explained.</p>
<p>	“That doesn’t make any sense.” Gomez stood and started frantically pacing. “Nothing here makes any sense! I saw a hand pop out of a box earlier!”</p>
<p>	“That's just Thing! He’s lived with you for your entire life, Gomez!”</p>
<p>	Gomez took a deep breath before walking over and taking Morticia’s shoulders in his hands. “I can see how hard this is for you, but you have to know how much harder it is for me. How am I supposed to trust, let alone believe anything being told to me? I feel like I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole, here!”</p>
<p>	“You can trust me because I’m your wife!” Morticia cried. “We are always honest with each other no matter what!”</p>
<p>	“Morticia, calm down!” he said, squeezing her shoulders tightly. “Just take a breath.”</p>
<p>	“How can I?” she asked, shaking out of his hold. “How can I possibly be calm when my husband doesn’t remember the wonderful man he is?”</p>
<p>	“It's not my fault!” Gomez shot back. “I’m trying.”</p>
<p>	“It doesn’t seem like you are,” Morticia said before she could stop herself, but she regretted it the second it was out of her mouth. </p>
<p>	“That isn’t fair,” he said before she could apologize. “It was like I was spontaneously born into the funny farm! You’re putting too much pressure on me to fit into this insane family and I need a little time!”</p>
<p>	A single tear rolled down Morticia’s cheek, to her dismay. She backed out of his grip, feeling like she left her heart in his arms as she went. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Take all the time  you need. I’m going to take the children out for a bit.”</p>
<p>	“Morticia-”</p>
<p>	“No, no, don’t. It's fine. Look around on your own, please. We’ll get out of your hair.” She walked away to find Wednesday and Pugsley, dabbing at her eyes as she went. Morticia wasn’t an outwardly emotional person, so the amount of emoting she was doing had her totally thrown for a loop. She only hoped she wouldn’t alarm her children any further with how distressed she was.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gomez watched Morticia go, feeling guilty for upsetting her, but also feeling relieved for being left alone. What could he do? He couldn’t remember anything about his life! And the whole insurance thing had him completely on edge, even though Morticia seemed abnormally distressed by his allegations. </p>
<p>	Morticia was an enigma in and of herself. When he was with her, there was this strange pull to be as close to her as possible. Yet in his mind she was this total stranger. He would have to be blind to not see the anguish in her eyes when she looks at him. She loved him deeply, that was no secret. The problem was he couldn’t remember loving her. One thing he was sure of was the strange pit he felt in his heart when she wasn’t near him.</p>
<p>	Gomez wandered into what he assumed was his library. It was impressively large, but just as gloomy as the rest of the house. He didn’t understand why everything was so dark. Was he supposed to like the house this way? He took a seat on a deep purple sofa, his eyes catching on a few leather bound books on the table in front of him. Lifting the top one, he found that it was an abnormally large photo album.</p>
<p>	The hinges of the book creaked as he opened it to the first page, which was taken up by a large picture of a rather pudgy baby in a black and white striped onesie. Beneath the photo in a scrawling font was written Pugsley Gomez Addams. Gomez smiled softly, almost unaware that it was even happening as he turned the page. </p>
<p>On the next page Gomez found a photo of himself, along with Morticia and baby Pugsley. He was grinning wildly, a cigar clamped between his teeth. His arm was around Morticia’s shoulder, his other hand holding one of Pugsley’s tiny ones. His eyes wandered to Morticia, noticing how beyond lovely she looked. His heart thumped and he turned the page.</p>
<p>So many memories passed before his eyes, but he didn’t recognize them. Though he was there, the proof was in his hands, it felt like he was looking at the life of a stranger. A stranger with many misshapen relatives, he was noticing. He was especially confused by the multiple pictures of something that seemed to be made completely of long blonde hair.</p>
<p>He eventually got to pictures of baby Wednesday, and found himself growing more and more distressed. This was his life, these people were clearly important to him, but there was nothing. While Pugsley was adorable, Wednesday was beautiful, and he found himself grinning at her tiny face, but that didn’t extend beyond the feeling one would have toward any beautiful baby. This revelation made him angrily slam the book shut, tossing it toward the coffee table where it sent up a cloud of dust. </p>
<p>Gomez reached up to brush his hand across the painful bruise stretching across his forehead. Did he really trip? Was this really the result of some horrible accident? Or could Morticia have him so fooled? He frowned, something about that just didn’t feel right. There was something about her he couldn’t place, something important about her. She wouldn’t hurt him, he was almost positive of that. But why he was so positive remained a mystery.</p>
<p>Gomez’s eyes caught on another photo album, which had Wedding written across the front in a loopy font. Unable to resist, he pulled it into his lap and flipped it open. The photo the book fell open to made an alien feeling stir inside of him. He and Morticia were locked in an embrace, looking at one another instead of at the camera. Morticia looked completely stunning in a black gown that had a long train and a very, very deep neckline. Gomez hardly looked at himself in the photo, his eyes locked only on Morticia. It was as if she was a magnet, constantly pulling him toward her no matter the situation. Even as a photograph she had that pull he couldn’t comprehend. </p>
<p>“I clearly love you,” he muttered as he flipped through all the pages. He finally tore his eyes from Morticia to look at himself, and in every photo he was only gazing at her. His heart pounded painfully once again. </p>
<p>“Morticia,” he whispered, trying her name out on his tongue. He liked how it sounded, he liked how it felt. He said it again, “Morticia. Morticia. Morticia. I should remember loving you, Morticia. I should remember our life. I’m sorry I don’t.”</p>
<p>It took Gomez completely by surprise when a tear splashed down onto the photograph he was staring longingly at. He couldn’t understand the emotional reaction he was having to the picture of a woman he didn’t know. Slowly, he shut the book and got to his feet, making his way toward the window. Much to his surprise, night had fallen. He spent the entire afternoon staring at these picture books, hoping to feel any spark of anything other than the misplaced pain that was stabbing suspiciously at his heart.</p>
<p>Knowing he couldn’t very well spend the evening locked away in the library, he tried to remember the way to his bedroom, and was happy to find he only got lost twice. As he stepped inside and flicked on the lights, his eyes landed on the king sized bed in the center of the room. Was he expected to share the bed with Morticia? She was his wife, but it felt wrong to him. Like he would be intruding on her space. He felt as though he had no right to assume they would sleep side by side when he didn’t even know the woman’s middle name.</p>
<p>Making up his mind, he walked over to a large black dresser and opened various drawers until he found something suitable to sleep in. Seeing as the house was enormous, Gomez didn’t think he would have trouble finding a spare room to spend the night in. And if all else failed, he could sleep in the library just fine.</p>
<p>The painful thumping of Gomez’s heart made him spin around to find Morticia silently hovering in the doorway. She really was so beautiful, he thought as he took in her appearance. Her raven hair, dark eyes, red lips. Looking at her face, he thought he would cut his finger if he ran it across her cheekbones. For a fleeting moment, he found that prospect appealing. His eyes, of their own volition, drifted down to her body, taking in every angle that was on display in  her tight dress. A stab of guilt pierced him at the thought of making her change earlier. The black really wasn’t so bad, it was just a bit jarring. Morticia looked more like an untouchable specter than a human person, it intimidated him.</p>
<p>But she was human. She breathed, she felt, she loved. She loved Gomez with every fiber of her being, that was clear in the way she looked at him now. Those red lips parted for a split second and Gomez found himself eager to hear her voice again. It had been hours, he felt like it had been far too long. Her voice was melodious, deep and soft. Like someone murmuring a lullaby to a child on the brink of sleep. But there was an edge there as well, like a razor hiding in the pages of a book.</p>
<p>“Where did you go?” he found himself asking before she could say anything. He was genuinely curious.</p>
<p>Morticia took that as a cue to step fully into the room, softly shutting the door behind her. “Uncle Fester and I took the children for sushi. Wednesday and Pugsley love splitting the whole octopus, though Pugsley always feels guilty afterward. He has a pet octopus, Aristotle. It makes him feel like he’s betrayed him in some way. Then we saw a movie. There's an old theater in town that runs classics. We saw Psycho tonight. Fester is taking the children back tomorrow to see House of Wax. The Vincent Price one, which has the best cast, we agreed. That's probably more detail than you wanted, however. I’m not one for oversharing, I’ve just missed talking to you, Gomez.”</p>
<p>“That's alright,” he said softly. “I asked, didn’t I?”</p>
<p>Morticia nodded. “I just came in to get a nightgown. I was going to sleep in the guest room.”</p>
<p>It didn’t go unnoticed to Gomez how her voice dripped with melancholy. How was he to know that they hadn’t slept apart practically since they met? Though as he watched Morticia walk toward the closet, it felt as though someone had driven their fist into his stomach. A part of him didn’t want to let her leave. He didn’t understand that part, but it was strong. Strong enough to place him in a tight choke hold.</p>
<p>“Don’t go,” he whispered, partially hoping she wouldn’t hear him, the other part praying she would.</p>
<p>Morticia turned, her shapely eyebrows pulled together in confusion. Her eyes searched his face, those tantalizing lips parting once again. It was a moment of painful silence before she said, “you want me to stay?”</p>
<p>“I can’t explain it,” Gomez began, taking a tentative step closer to her. “But… a part of me hurts…”</p>
<p>“Your head?”</p>
<p>He let out a soft laugh. “No, well, yes, but that isn’t what I was talking about.” He rested a hand against his chest, actually feeling the beat of his heart beneath his palm as he looked at Morticia. “Here, it hurts here to think of you going.”</p>
<p>Slowly, as if afraid she would frighten him off, Morticia reached out and placed her palm against his cheek. “Gomez,” she whispered. “I don’t know if I should stay. You don’t know me. I don’t want to share my bed with a stranger.”</p>
<p>A tear rolled down her cheek, leaving a trail along her alabaster skin. Gomez’s heart thumped so hard, he was sure she could have heard the sound. She started to pull back when he caught her hand, taking her by surprise. She shut her eyes, a shuddering breath shaking her shoulders.</p>
<p>“I want to remember you,” he said, dropping the clothing he was holding to better focus on Morticia. “I want to remember my life. I want to understand this family again. But above everything else I want to remember you, Morticia.”</p>
<p>“I would give anything to have my husband back,” Morticia choked out, her eyes still firmly shut. “I hate the way you look at me now.”</p>
<p>“How do I look at you?” he asked, daring to trace a hand along her face.</p>
<p>Morticia opened her eyes once again and focused on his face. “Like your eyes are made from glass. Like you’re a doll, just looking to look. Not seeing. You used to look at me with eyes made of liquid fire. It was like I could look into your eyes and see countless I love yous reflected back at me.”</p>
<p>“Morticia,” he gasped, reaching for her other hand. “That's how you look at me.”</p>
<p>Her lip quivered as she spoke. “Of course it is, Gomez.”</p>
<p>“I’m causing you so much pain,” he said, regret lacing his words. “The way I dismissed you this afternoon wasn’t fair.”</p>
<p>“Gomez, stop, I pushed too much on you.”</p>
<p>“I shouldn’t have asked you to change.”</p>
<p>Morticia shook her head, a haunted look falling across her features. “You’ve always seen me as beautiful, even when the world hasn’t.”</p>
<p>“You are beautiful,” he insisted. “I was intimidated,” he admitted. “As must be the world.”</p>
<p>Morticia shook her head once again. “I should leave.”</p>
<p>As if his body was being controlled by an outside force, Gomez lunged forward and wrapped Morticia in his arms. Magnetically, his lips were pulled to hers in an instant. Unlike earlier in the day, he didn’t kiss her softly. Morticia gave into him, parting her lips to his insistent mouth as some desperate, subconscious part of Gomez fought to find a spark of recognition. He kissed her with a fiery passion he didn’t know he possessed, and she kissed him back with equal abandon. Their teeth crashed together, their lips caught in a tango as their hands began to roam of their own accord.</p>
<p>Gomez felt his heart continue to hammer as his hands slid down Morticia’s back, finding the zipper she presented to him earlier that day. He gave it a tug, testing the waters to see if Morticia would resist. She would have every right to, Gomez knew that. He knew he shouldn’t be trying to undress her right now, but Morticia didn’t stop him and he, quite frankly, didn’t want to be stopped. As wrong as his brain kept telling him it was, his heart was screaming out an entirely different story.</p>
<p>Morticia slid her down his chest, her fingers expertly popping the buttons on his blazer. She pushed it from his shoulders right as he built up the nerve to pull the zipper all the way down her back. In a flash of movement, she had his tie off and was quickly undoing his shirt buttons as she nipped her way down to his neck. A shudder ran through him as she bit softly into his sensitive flesh, sending goosebumps erupting across his overly hot skin.</p>
<p>Gomez traced his hands across her smooth back, a back he must have touched countless times, trying to find something familiar about it. The heavy velvet fell from her shoulders, exposing the chest he shied away from out of shock and propriety earlier. Again, what right did he have to look? She belonged to another version of him. He grabbed Morticia’s face, bringing his lips back down against her’s, his brain working painfully hard to remember anything about the woman he was clinging so desperately to. He had nearly made himself dizzy with overthinking when he should have just let instinct take over instead.</p>
<p>It was clear to both he and Morticia what he wanted, he was a man after all, but the thought of the next step made guilt churn through his gut. His shirt fell to the ground behind him and he almost fell with it. “Morticia,” he moaned, breaking their silence. “Morticia, tell me to stop.” He tugged her sleeves from her wrists, making her dress fall the rest of the way to the floor. “You’re not mine,” he said, his voice choked with heavy emotion. He kissed her again, making a hypocrite of himself as he did so.</p>
<p>Morticia pulled her mouth away from his to rest her forehead on his shoulder. The only noise in the room was that of Gomez’s heavy breathing, which seemed to echo around them. “Why can’t you remember me?” Morticia eventually sobbed, taking an unsteady step back. “Why aren’t I enough to bring your memories back?”</p>
<p>Slowly, Gomez sunk to his knees, sliding through Morticia’s grip like sand. “Goddamnit, I want to! I want it so bad! It's clearly not as simple as you’re hoping, Morticia!”</p>
<p>In an attempt to collect herself, Morticia walked to the bed and took a seat, pulling her robe over her shoulders. She sat silently as Gomez jumped up and began pacing back and forth like a caged tiger. Another painful thump ripped through his chest, this time it made him pause out of the sheer agony from it. He grimaced in pain, clutching at his bare chest with a shaking hand.</p>
<p>“That keeps happening and I feel like it has something to do with you!” he said through gritted teeth. “It's like my heart is trying to yank me toward you! Like I’m just it's little puppet!”</p>
<p>Morticia shrugged as she rested her head against the bedpost, looking rather exhausted. “Perhaps your heart remembers something your brain doesn’t.”</p>
<p>Gomez looked at her with a frown, his entire body feeling like lead. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically. He wanted to collapse face down in the black pillows and let sleep claim him, but he also wanted to resume kissing Morticia for reasons his mind couldn’t fathom. He walked over to her, his body needing to touch her, and took her soft face in his hands. Unlike his earlier thought, her cheekbones did not slice his fingers as he traced them.</p>
<p>“What if the roles were reversed?” he muttered. “What would you like me to do for you?”</p>
<p>There was a stretch of silence between them as Morticia poured over her answer. “I don’t know, Gomez. I thought I was doing everything right. I had Lurch leave old photo albums out hoping you would find them.”</p>
<p>“I did, I looked through them for hours.”</p>
<p>“But there is still nothing,” she said with a heavy sigh. </p>
<p>Another stretch of weighty silence extended between them. Gomez was still cupping Morticia’s face, his thumbs moving down so they rested on either side of her lips. He glanced at her eyes, seeing a tired and hopeless expression as she stared vacantly at the floor instead of at him.</p>
<p>“May I kiss you again?” he asked earnestly.</p>
<p>Morticia’s eyes rolled toward his and she nodded softly. He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, taking time to really feel every little sensation that ran through him. He knew there was a spark there, it all but exploded through him every time he so much as touched her. It was like his body and brain were two separate entities having two separate reactions to the same woman.</p>
<p>Gomez let his hands slide down to rest on Morticia’s shoulders. She tensed beneath his hands before she softly relaxed into his grip. Gomez eased her back against the sheets, his body moving from muscle memory alone. Morticia let out a gasp as he moved his mouth down to her neck.</p>
<p>“Gomez,” she moaned his name quietly, her hand sliding across his back.</p>
<p>Goosebumps erupted across his flesh, sending a shiver down his spine. Without thinking he pushed her flimsy robe open, once again exposing her body to him. His breath caught in his throat as he pulled away to look down at her. Perfection was the first word that came to mind as he gazed at her. Morticia was perfect.</p>
<p>“Cara mia,” he muttered, unsure of why that phrase came to mind.</p>
<p>Morticia’s eyes widened. “What did you say?”</p>
<p>Gomez shook his head. “I… I don’t know. The words just came out of my mouth.”</p>
<p>Morticia sat up slightly, looking at him with an inquisitive expression. “You always used to call me that.”</p>
<p>Leaning in once again, Gomez recaptured her lips, desperate to have another spark or memory hit him. Then he felt guilty all over again as his fingers traced down Morticia’s side. If his brain would stop betraying him at every turn, perhaps he could concentrate better on getting his memories back. He paused for a fraction of a second, which Morticia noticed.</p>
<p>“You’re allowed to touch me, Gomez,” she said, sensing his hesitation.</p>
<p>“It feels wrong,” he groaned, letting his head fall against Morticia’s shoulder. “It feels like I’m seducing another man’s wife.”</p>
<p>“Gomez, I’m not another man’s wife, I’m your wife.” She let out a long sigh before pushing him back so he could look at her. “But perhaps you’re right. This is too hard.”</p>
<p>He nodded once and his heart did another one of those horrible thuds. “Keep the bed, Morticia. I’ll go.”</p>
<p>“That's not necessary.”</p>
<p>“But it is,” Gomez said forlornly as he walked over to where he dropped his pyjamas earlier. He turned to look at her once more, using that moment to truly drink in her appearance. “Goodnight, Morticia.”</p>
<p>“Goodnight, Gomez,” she whispered, her voice clogged with emotion.</p>
<p>He paused in the doorway, watching for a moment as Morticia curled up against the pillows, hiding her face in her hands. Instead of a hard thud, Gomez felt a stabbing pain in his heart. “I’m so sorry.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning was the first in a very long time that Morticia had absolutely no desire to leave her bed. She didn’t even care that sunlight had started to stream in, disrupting her perfect dark cocoon. Most mornings, Gomez would leap out of bed to draw the curtains for her before rushing back to her side. Now the bed just felt empty and cold and full of hideous sunlight.</p>
<p>Morticia had barely slept. She found the task nearly impossible without Gomez’s arm wrapped around her. Morticia hadn’t slept alone for 13 years, how was she supposed to start now? And the thought of another day of their strange back and forth, not quite knowing where they stood, made her stomach ache. </p>
<p>There was a soft tap at the door, making Morticia raise her head slightly. “Mother, can I come in?” Wednesday’s voice softly asked from the other side.</p>
<p>“Of course, darling,” Morticia called back, cringing at how hoarse her voice sounded. The last thing she wanted was for Wednesday to worry about her, but she had a feeling she looked a mess and her daughter was going to worry anyway.</p>
<p>Wednesday slipped in, shutting the door behind her. “You weren’t at breakfast.”</p>
<p>Morticia sat up, looking over at the antique clock on the wall. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how late it was.”</p>
<p>Wednesday walked over and climbed into the big bed. In a rare display of affection, she snuggled close to Morticia and rested her head on her shoulder. “Father still has amnesia.”</p>
<p>Morticia frowned as she absentmindedly toyed with one of Wednesday’s braids. “I’m afraid so, dear.”</p>
<p>“He just asked me if I wanted an American Girl Doll. And he got upset when I said only if I could use my guillotine on it.”</p>
<p>Morticia shuddered. “We have to remember he is not himself right now.”</p>
<p>“Uncle Fester says all we need to do is hit him on the head again,” Wednesday said, looking up at her mother with intrigue, like she was all too eager to take over that task.</p>
<p>Morticia smirked down at her, giving her head a slight shake. “Yes, he told me the same thing. However, I don’t want to risk hurting your father any further.”</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>Morticia laughed. “Because I love him.”</p>
<p>Wednesday shrugged. “I love Pugsley and I put a hot coal down his shirt last night.”</p>
<p>“Love is expressed in many different ways, my darling. I don’t want you to worry about your father, alright? Leave that to me.”</p>
<p>Wednesday nodded in understanding. “I was going to get a medical book from the library today. Can I still do that? Maybe I’ll read something helpful.”</p>
<p>“Of course. Who braided your hair this morning?” Normally Gomez was always at the ready to give Wednesday her signature braids, which was one of Morticia’s favorite things to watch every day. Morticia just wasn’t as good at braiding as her husband, which was a shock to both of them.</p>
<p>Wednesday’s dark eyes were wide as she frowned slightly. “Uncle Fester. It took him a few tries.”</p>
<p> Morticia laughed softly. “I’m actually impressed. Now, I don’t want you to be late for school.” She kissed Wednesday’s forehead before patting her back. “Tell Pugsley I said to have a good day. And that I’m sorry I didn’t come downstairs.”</p>
<p>“We understand, Mother.” She flashed a tiny smile before hugging Morticia and leaving.</p>
<p>Morticia was sad to see her go. Of course she missed her children when they went to school every day, but she always had Gomez by her side. Today she just felt totally alone. Eventually, she forced herself out of bed and got herself ready, though she took her time with it. Never once had she dreaded seeing her husband before, but that was the feeling nagging at her as she made her way down stairs. Pure dread, and not the fun kind either.</p>
<p>Lurch was lurking outside the sitting room when Morticia came downstairs, cautiously peering inside. Morticia walked up beside him, sending him a questioning look. “Didn’t want to scare him,” Lurch grumbled, gesturing to where Gomez was sitting.</p>
<p>Morticia bit her lip as she crossed her arms. “You aren’t scary, Lurch. I’m sorry if Mr. Addams has been… strange. Please, think nothing of anything he says.”</p>
<p>Lurch nodded.</p>
<p>“Would you do me a favor? Could you go to the store and get… peanut butter?” Morticia asked, trying hard to hide her disgust at Gomez’s new eating habits.</p>
<p>Lurch looked mildly horrified by the prospect, but he nodded and walked away. Morticia rounded her shoulders and walked into the living room, ready to get their initial encounter out of the way. Gomez looked up from his paper, seeming to sense Morticia’s presence.</p>
<p>“Hi,” he said. As normal as it may have seemed, it was such a strange greeting coming from Gomez.</p>
<p>“Hello,” she responded. “Did you sleep well?”</p>
<p>He shook his head, folding his paper and setting it to the side. “No. I slept horribly. Is that normal?”</p>
<p>“No.” She walked over and took a hesitant seat in her normal spot beside him. “You are normally a very sound sleeper. Like a corpse.”</p>
<p>“Oh.” He considered this for a moment. “Did you sleep well, at least?”</p>
<p>“No,” she said, looking down at her nails. “Your bruise is starting to fade.”</p>
<p>“Oh, yes, my mother slathered something on it at breakfast.” He shrugged casually. “It smelled really bad, so I’m glad it's working at least.”</p>
<p>Morticia let out a humorless laugh. “It's so strange to hear you call Mama Mother.”</p>
<p>“Wednesday and Pugsley call you mother,” Gomez said with a slight shrug. “I assumed it was a familial thing.”</p>
<p>“I’m surprised Mama didn’t yell at you,” Morticia said with amusement. “Wednesday went through a phase of calling me mommy when she was younger and I’m very happy she grew out of that. Not that I ever said it to her, of course.”</p>
<p>“It's clear how much Wednesday takes after you,” he said in consideration.</p>
<p>“Yes, well, you wouldn’t realize but Pugsley is very much like you.”</p>
<p>Gomez raised an eyebrow. “He is?”</p>
<p>Morticia nodded. “You’re both very outgoing. And Pugsley is starting to become slightly girl crazy and I have only you to blame for that. You don’t remember, but there was a whole debacle with one of his teachers where he copied a letter you wrote me and gave it to her. She came here and ended up thinking you wrote it to her, it was a whole mess. Also, the two of you love explosions.”</p>
<p>A subtle smile spread across Gomez’s face, which had Morticia grinning as well. “That's all very interesting,” he said with a slight laugh. “Explosions?”</p>
<p>“You have a model train set,” Morticia began to explain. “You either like to make them crash head on, or make the bridge explode with dynamite.” </p>
<p>His smile began to fall. “Isn’t that dangerous? And expensive?”</p>
<p>“You never mind either of those things,” Morticia said quietly.</p>
<p>“That seems horribly irresponsible,” he said with a shake of his head.</p>
<p>Morticia only frowned, not wanting to get into an argument or anything of the sort. However, since she didn’t have a proper response that meant the silence between them stretched on for an obscenely long time. Gomez shifted uncomfortably in his seat while Morticia stayed still as a statue. What she really wanted to do was scream and rip her hair out, but she resisted considering Gomez now thought train crashes to be a bit strange, she was unsure of what his reaction to that would be.</p>
<p>“Should we discuss last night?” Gomez eventually asked, casting a nervous glance toward the doorway.</p>
<p>“If you wish,” Morticia said, folding her hands in her lap.</p>
<p>Gomez let out a long exhale, his olive cheeks taking on a slight red tinge. “I, firstly, would like to apologize. I shouldn’t have taken things as far as I did.”</p>
<p>Morticia rolled her eyes. “What happened last night was a PG movie in terms of what we normally do, Gomez.”</p>
<p>His eyes widened. “Is that so?”</p>
<p>Morticia nodded slowly.</p>
<p>“Oh… interesting. Because I’ve been feeling a little bit guilty about it all. Which is probably the reason I had trouble sleeping. I had no right to, erm, to do any of the things I did.” He exhaled, threading his fingers together. He was looking nervously down at the floor, his feet tapping in agitation. “You’re a lady, and I should have treated you as such.”</p>
<p>Morticia almost laughed. “Gomez, you once used a riding crop so hard on me I literally could not sit down for-”</p>
<p>“Ah!” he yelled, interrupting her sensual recollection. “Please, please, do not continue that sentence.”</p>
<p>“Gomez-”</p>
<p>“My God, a riding crop?” he asked.</p>
<p>“We have a whole dungeon full of-”</p>
<p>“Please, Morticia!”</p>
<p>“Oh no,” she sighed hopelessly. “You’ve become vanilla.”</p>
<p>Gomez frowned, a look of distress flashing across his face. “Is that bad?”</p>
<p>Guilt slapped Morticia across the face. She walked over and perched on the arm of his chair, tentatively reaching over to pat his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’ve been very selfish throughout all this.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know if I can fault you for that,” he said, softly taking her hand in his. “Do I… do I really slap you with riding crops?”</p>
<p>Morticia smiled, the memory making a fire spread through her chest. “Oh yes. And at the risk of sending you further into a spiral of despair, you are often on the receiving end as well.”</p>
<p>He turned to face her, eyes bulging. “Great scott.”</p>
<p>“Mmm, great scott indeed.” </p>
<p>“I’m sorry I brought this subject up,” he muttered.</p>
<p>“It's quite alright, darling,” Morticia sighed, trying to keep her voice light. “We can discuss anything you would like.”</p>
<p>Gomez stood abruptly. “Maybe a walk would be good. Outside.”</p>
<p>Morticia glanced toward the window where the obnoxious sun was trying to break through the heavy curtains. “In this weather? With all the blue sky and sunshine?” She shuddered at the thought.</p>
<p>“Yes, it's a lovely day!” he said with a cheery smile. “And I’ve yet to see the house from the outside.”</p>
<p>“Very well, I’ll just need to grab my sunglasses, and a parasol, and some sunscreen. Maybe a hat…”</p>
<p>“You don’t need all that,” Gomez said with a laugh, taking her hand. “A little color might do you some good.”</p>
<p>Morticia frowned but didn’t argue. She would get a dreaded tan if it might help Gomez’s state of mind. She could alway soak in an acid bath anyway, if need be. It might be relaxing, and Morticia could use a little bit of relaxation after this whole ordeal.</p>
<p>“We have a cemetery… in our yard…” Gomez said in shock once outside. Morticia thought that might be a good place to start, thinking it could bring back some memory of Gomez’s ancestors. “And it's large.”</p>
<p>“Of course, it's where the Addams have been buried for centuries,” Morticia explained, feeling somewhat like a tour guide. “And it's where the Addams will continue to be buried.”</p>
<p>“Including me,” Gomez whispered to himself.</p>
<p>Morticia glanced over at him, squinting against the harsh sun to try and read his expression. He looked haunted, and not in a charming way. There was true terror splashed across his face. Morticia had seen that look once before when they bought tickets to see the Trolls movie thinking it would be about actual trolls and not glittery singing monstrosities featuring Justin Timberlake. </p>
<p>“You look as though you’ve seen a bunny rabbit,” Morticia said softly, taking his face in her hands.</p>
<p>“I wish I saw something so normal,” he said before turning away from her, stalking toward a stone bench and taking a seat. He hung his head heavily before heaving a huge sigh. Morticia stayed put, giving him a bit of space since he seemed liable to snap at a moment's notice. She normally would have found that prospect thrilling, but not in this situation.</p>
<p>Gomez’s mood swings were starting to give her whiplash. He ran so hot and cold on her, it was like she was constantly teetering on the edge of a cliff. But she was being silly if she thought he was adjusting well to any of this. Gomez was about as well adjusted as a 100 year old watch. </p>
<p>“What you’re not understanding,” Morticia eventually broke through the silence. “Is that this is our normal.”</p>
<p>He picked his head up to look incredulously at her. “Normal is a green lawn with no bodies beneath it.”</p>
<p>Morticia shrugged. “Sure, if you want to be completely boring and unoriginal. Both of those things, by the way, are the polar antonym of Gomez Addams.”</p>
<p>He rolled his eyes and sighed yet again. “There is such a thing as too unique.”</p>
<p>“What is so terrible about being unique?” Morticia pressed. “And to be honest, I don’t think of us as unique. We’re just us and I love us. The way we are, with our graves, and cobwebs, and large butlers, and sex whips.”</p>
<p>“Morticia, are you really- forget it.”</p>
<p>“Finish your thought.” The tone of her voice left no room for argument.</p>
<p>Gomez glared at her before gathering the courage to say what he wanted. “I feel as though you might be a bit delusional.” </p>
<p>“So you conk your head and suddenly you’re Ward Cleaver? Appealing last name, yes, but a completely benign and beige human being.” Morticia took an angry step toward him, unintentionally snapping a twig as she went, but loving how it made Gomez flinch slightly. “You want boring, Gomez? Be my guest. Have Lurch plant grass seed. Hell, he can plant tulips and I won’t even chop the flowers off if that's what you want.”</p>
<p>“I don’t understand why you’re so angry,” Gomez said, holding up his hands in some kind of defense, even though Morticia was a good few feet away from him.</p>
<p>“Am I angry?” Morticia asked. She smiled in such an eerie way that it made Gomez scoot to the complete other side of the bench. “No, I’m not. You’re my husband, I’m just trying to make you happy, since it seems like this is how you are now.”</p>
<p>“You know what? You are being selfish about this,” Gomez shot back. “Completely selfish.”</p>
<p>“I’m not a selfish person, you know that. Or at least you did know that, once upon a time. So forgive me, if for once in my life, I let myself slip and want to look out for myself. And for the record, it is not only me I am concerned for. I have our children to think about too. Their father has completely changed in the blink of an eye and they’re worried, even though that is the last thing I would ever want. Though they’re wise beyond their years, they are still children and they shouldn’t have to tiptoe around their own father because they don’t know how he is going to behave toward them.”</p>
<p>“I have been nothing but cordial toward those kids!”</p>
<p>“Do you hear yourself?” Morticia all but spat, venom lacing her every word. “Those kids? Those kids don’t want cordial, they want love!”</p>
<p>“It's really strange how much you use the word love when talking about this family,” Gomez said, getting up enough courage to walk over to Mortica.</p>
<p>“And what, pray tell, does that mean?” she asked, her voice still incredibly even for someone seething with anger.</p>
<p>“It means this place is a fucking loony bin! Full of lunatics! I met that Fester character this morning and the man puts a fucking lightbulb in his mouth! And it lights up! My supposed mother looks like a cartoon witch, my children are seemingly trying to kill each other at every turn, but yeah, it's a home so very full of love, isn’t it? And you know, yesterday, I was really starting to think perhaps I misjudged you at first. I felt bad for complaining about your clothes, and critiquing your decorating choices. And yes, I did want to have sex with you last night, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re just as insane as the rest of them.”</p>
<p>Morticia nodded as she absorbed the painful onslaught of his words. Fighting through the tears constricting her throat, she spoke. “I’ve had a lot said about me. Behind my back, to my face, it doesn’t matter. None of it compares to that. Stabbing me would have hurt less than hearing my own husband call his family a bunch of lunatics. No, you didn’t ask to lose your memory, but you didn’t have to become such a dick either, Gomez.”</p>
<p>Morticia turned and started to walk back toward the house, not caring what Gomez did with himself in the meantime. He could fall into a grave, for all she cared. But who was she kidding? She did care. She cared very much, and that's why as soon as she was in the safety of the house she began to sob uncontrollably.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He didn’t mean it. Deep down, he felt terrible for what he said to Morticia. His words were an accumulation of exhaustion and frustration and confusion. The look on Morticia’s face was etched in his mind. The hurt beneath the mask of strength, the well of tears along her dark lashes that refused to fall until she felt safe. He felt compelled to go to her, sooner rather than later. Any later and she would truly think he didn’t care about her.</p>
<p>Though his brain didn’t know it, his heart definitely did. He cared about all these people he called lunatics only moments before. He just couldn’t fathom why. Why on earth was this his life? Why was he thrust into such an abnormal situation?</p>
<p>But contemplating his life wasn’t his goal at the moment. His goal was to save his marriage for whatever reason. His heart thumped again, and he was getting really tired of that happening. Quickly, he walked to the conservatory door, stopping quickly to pick a rose from the thorny tangle beside the door, and rushed inside.</p>
<p>The house was enormous, he really wasn’t sure where Morticia went, but he figured their room was maybe a good place to start. He found the dark wood door shut and locked, so he figured that Morticia was definitely inside. Softly, he rapped his knuckles against the wood, hoping he would hear some response on the other side. But there was nothing.</p>
<p>“Morticia?” he quietly called. Again, he was met with silence. “Morticia, please, are you in there?”</p>
<p>Startling him out of his wits, that hand scurried in front of his feet. It pointed at the door and flashed a thumbs up before scurrying on it's way. Gomez shook his head, but took that to mean Morticia was, in fact, inside.</p>
<p>“Morticia, I was completely out of line. I shouldn’t have said those things. Can you please let me in?” Nothing. Unsurprisingly. Gomez wasn’t sure if he would let himself in either. “Please, understand that I wasn’t coming from a place of hate. This is as hard for me as it is for you.”</p>
<p>“Please just go away,” Morticia said from the other side of the door. </p>
<p>“I don’t want to go away,” Gomez argued back, knowing how invalid that must sound after all the things he said outside.</p>
<p>“You could have fooled me.”</p>
<p>“Morticia, please, understand.” Another thump, which made him grimace in agony. “I want to take it all back. Can’t you see how scared I am? Can’t you see how strange this must be for me? I can’t remember anything about my life! Nothing! I don’t even know my own birthday. I keep saying things that are wrong. I keep doing things that are wrong. I just want to go back to normal, whatever that normal may be. My heart hurts, Morticia. Oh, Morticia, please…” he didn’t even know what he was pleading for at this point. An end to the pain and suffering, perhaps. Both for him and Morticia.</p>
<p>The door cracked open slightly, revealing only a sliver of Morticia’s face. “Your mood swings may be worse than your amnesia, Gomez.”</p>
<p>“I’m just trying to… God, I don’t even know. It is hard stumbling around life without a clue. I know what I said just now was unforgivable.” He smiled sheepishly and extended the rose toward her.</p>
<p>“Well, at least you’re sure of one thing,” Morticia said as she opened the door a bit more, her eyes narrowing at the flower. She took it, pulling the boom off and tossed it aside. “You know, Fester has suggested giving you another whack over the head to try and cure your amnesia. I’ll admit I was considering it a moment ago.”</p>
<p>“Do it,” he said after a moment of consideration. “Hit me.”</p>
<p>“I am not going to hit you,” Morticia retorted. “That's out of the question.”</p>
<p>“But what if it works?”</p>
<p>“Yes, and what if it means you now forget basic motor functions and are rendered a vegetable that's prone to horrific mood swings?” </p>
<p>“Tish, we have to do something.”</p>
<p>Morticia’s eyes positively lit up for a reason unknown to Gomez. “You called me Tish.”</p>
<p>“And?” </p>
<p>“You always would call me Tish. You know, before all this. And then last night you called me cara mia…” she trailed off, feeling slightly foolish. “It's like part of the old you is fighting to get through.”</p>
<p>“And then other times it's like I’m a huge asshole, right?” he said, trying to make the situation seem less bleak. </p>
<p>“Right.” Though she opened the door, it was clear that Morticia wasn’t ready to completely forgive. “Part of me can’t help but wonder if you truly meant everything you said.”</p>
<p>“I… you do have to admit that it's strange that our children chase each other around with knives.”</p>
<p>Morticia shook her head slightly. “I don’t find that strange. It's how children play.”</p>
<p>Gomez’s eyes widened in shock. “I really don’t think it is, Morticia!”</p>
<p>“Normal is subjective and I would really prefer not getting into another argument right now because I am liable to chase you with a knife myself. And I don’t miss.”</p>
<p>“Oh, so you’ll throw a knife at me but you won’t bash me over the head?” Gomez yelled. “You know what, forget it, I don’t want to fight anymore either.”</p>
<p>“We never fight,” Morticia said softly as she leaned against the door frame. “Ever. It had Fester really concerned for a period of time.”</p>
<p>“Well he could rest easy now,” Gomez said sarcastically. “If I didn’t know any better I would say we fight like cats and dogs.”</p>
<p>“That isn’t us at all. Our biggest argument, barring these past few days, was over a misunderstanding Cousin Itt caused.”</p>
<p>“Cousin Itt?” Gomez asked.</p>
<p>“He's in the chimney if you would like to meet him,” Morticia stated as if that was the most normal thing in the world.</p>
<p>“I think I’ll pass.” He awkwardly shoved his hands in his pockets, unsure of what to even do with himself.  </p>
<p>“Of course,” Morticia said cooly. “We’re going in circles, Gomez.”</p>
<p>“I realize this,” he said flatly. “And I realize you’re still upset, and you have every right to be, but would you let me in? We should talk in private.”</p>
<p>“By all means.” Morticia stepped to the side to let him in, though she seemed less than thrilled about it.</p>
<p> She shut the door and pressed her back against it, making no moves to come further into the room. Gomez walked over and took a heavy seat on the foot of the bed. And as always, his heart thumped like it was trying to leap out of his chest, like all his heart wanted to do was break free and run to Morticia.</p>
<p>“I am trying to understand and be sympathetic about your situation,” Morticia began, her voice diplomatic. “However, I really am having trouble getting past what you said outside. It really feels like my Gomez is gone. There are moments when it seems like he's coming back, but it's abundantly clear that I’m just being a hopeless dreamer.”</p>
<p>“Your despair is really hurting me, and I have no idea why,” Gomez said as he stood, the pounding of his heart nearly constant at this point. “But part of me knows I would do anything for you. Including this.”</p>
<p>Gomez leapt to his feet and walked purposefully toward the fireplace. Morticia watched with confusion as he picked up one of the iron fire pokers and held it out at arms length. “Gomez… what are you doing?”</p>
<p>“What my heart is telling me,” he said, stalking toward Morticia. “And my heart is telling me to keep you from ever shedding a single tear ever again.”</p>
<p>Gomez grabbed the poker by the middle, a look of determination etched on his face. Before he could back out against his odds, he used all his strength to smash the iron handle of the poker right down on the top of his head. He stood still in shock for a moment before crashing to the ground like a sack of potatoes.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Morticia was unsure of what she just witnessed as Gomez crashed down at her feet. She gasped and fell to her knees beside him, pulling his head into her lap. She patted his cheeks, hoping to gently wake him up. “Gomez, Gomez, darling, can you hear me?”</p>
<p>He groaned loudly as he began to stir. He opened his unfocused eyes, a goofy smile stretching across his face. “Tish!” </p>
<p>Morticia looked down at him, not wanting to get her hopes up too soon. “Gomez?”</p>
<p>“Querida, what happened?” he asked, reaching for her hand. “My head feels like I put a pot over it and let Pugsley take a whack with his bat.”</p>
<p>“It's you!” Morticia cried, which made Gomez cringe.</p>
<p>“What do you mean?” he laughed, giving her hand a small kiss. “Not that I’m complaining about having my head in your lap, but what led up to it?”</p>
<p>“You hit your head a day ago and had amnesia for nearly twenty four hours!” Morticia explained in a rush. “You were a completely different person, you were…. Well, for lack of a better word, a monster.”</p>
<p>Slowly Gomez sat up, trying to better focus his eyes to look at his wife. “Darling, are you serious? What did I do?”</p>
<p>Morticia shook her head, taking his face in her hands. “It doesn’t matter, I have you back. I have my Gomez back.” She kissed him deeply and her heart felt intact once again. She pulled back to look at him, an uncharacteristically large grin breaking out across her face. “You are never allowed to hit your head ever again, understand?”</p>
<p>“Yes ma’am,” he said with a cheeky smile, which fell as his eyes finally focused and he could see the streaks of mascara running down her cheeks. “My darling, you’ve been crying. You must tell me what I did! If I need to be punished in some way, let me know and I will-”</p>
<p>“Gomez, please,” she said with a soft laugh. “I just want to do a test really quickly, if you don’t mind.”</p>
<p>“By all means,” he said before kissing her cheek.</p>
<p>“Good. What do you think of this dress?”</p>
<p>He took a moment to scan his eyes down her body with an appreciative smile. “Ravishing! You look like a goddess, querida mia!”</p>
<p>Morticia could have wept from happiness. “And the children, do you miss them right now?”</p>
<p>“Of course I do!” He pulled out his pocket watch. “Ah, and it's still hours until they’re home from school. However, that's more time for us alone.” He grabbed her arm and began to kiss from her wrist to her shoulder.</p>
<p>Morticia sighed in happiness. “I’m going to get you fitted for a helmet tomorrow,” she said fondly, patting his head.</p>
<p>“Was I really so terrible?” he asked with his face still buried in her neck. “I have to know, the wondering will drive me mad.”</p>
<p>“I promise to fill you in. Later. For right now I want to enjoy having you back.”</p>
<p>“Anything you wish, Morticia,” he declared, pulling back to look at her with adoration. “My darling, my world, my ecstacy.”</p>
<p>“Oh, mon amour.”</p>
<p>“Tish, you know what that French does to me,” he said with a devilish smile.</p>
<p>“Yes.” She nodded happily. “I do indeed. And I will never take it for granted.”</p>
<p>“I would carry you to the bed, but my head still feels a bit woozy.”</p>
<p>Morticia raised an eyebrow. “Who needs a bed, mon sauvage?” </p>
<p>“I don’t know where I went, but I am very glad to be back.”</p>
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